Rats We Have Been Made
by Master Pencil
Summary: They have had enough. The villains are now looking beyond the heroes and are focusing their sights on the very people who brought them to life. Now they want to wreak terrible revenge on everything the Walt Disney Company stood for.
1. Chapter 1 Call for Revenge

A/N: If you saw eariler, this story is much different than my others. This is the scary brother to _Small Town Villainy_, the Disney Villain story that was humorous and light-hearted. This on the other hand is more sinister, dark, and downright wicked. I thought it was time for me to write a serious story, so here you go. But anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Disney characters.

**Rats We Have Been Made**

**By Master Pencil**

Chapter 1 Call for Revenge

I hope you are enjoying yourself. On the contrary, "hope" would lead to nowhere, since with us as the spears of doom you should be quite the opposite. You should know what we are, we are the Disney Villains.

Now before you rush to your bed cowering as you should be, let me explain that for years we have held our thin patience, always taking the short end of the stick so to speak from the perfectly ignorant heroes. These fools try to use such pitiful qualities of love and determination to foil our plans, and although we laugh at such nonsense, we are somehow beaten each and every time. This is strange to us, because we consider ourselves as realists. The world is a wicked realm of beasts, both animal and human. Here, only the survival of the fittest may truly survive. We do not trust others, only ourselves. That is how it is.

So with this in mind, it amuses and angers us that we were born to be beaten. That is how the storybook fantasy became of anyway. But what really boils our black hearts is that we were born to _entertain_. Such a preposterous thing makes me rumble just thinking of it. We love to frighten children, but we were not created for Hollywood. This is why we tend to look beyond the foolish heroes and see the real foolishness, the Walt Disney Company, and the man who started it all, Walt Disney.

I can hear you just now. "Oh no, Maleficent! You hate Walt Disney, The one who created you?" Oh please, stop with the babbling. The man intended for us to be puppets of the company and the heroes! Yes, he made a mistake. That mistake, if you are wondering, was creating us!

Now see how all of those decisions will soon make us rise from the ground and flames. See how treachery and evil are all around you, ready to burn you to a crisp and devour your flesh! See how entertainment could turn and attack the crowd who fear it!

Come my fellow "entertainment" villains! Rats we have been made!

**[Rats We Have Been Made]**

(Organ plays in the background, playing the five words with the first one held for three seconds before stepping on the next four, repeats twice and then tip-toes nine times on high to low keys)

Villains: Rats we have been made

Rats we have been made

Rats we have been made into so we can scare you away into your room!

The Queen: Once upon a time

Stromboil: We were drawn on a paper

Lady Tremaine: That was quite an experience

Queen of Hearts: Though I wanted to take out the animator!

Si and Am: But then we realized what we were made to do!

Captain Hook: Then we were born into a not-so happy, dreary world!

(Organ changes to electric guitar, stringing a blazing line of broad, menacing notes with drums beating heavily. Every villain laughs as Chernabog comes out)

Maleficent: They did not welcome us to this world!

Cruella De Vil: So we just went and had a mad time so we can make you run and never see the light of day again!

Madame Mim: That was so much fun for all of us!

Shere Khan: So we went our ways of tormenting all of you so we can ruin and smash and trash your day!

(Electric guitar and drums slow down to steady notes)

Edgar: Oh yes we love our money!

Prince John: Oh yes we love all of that so we can have all the treasures and goodies to ourselves!

Medusa: Fools! Imbeciles! Imbeciles and fools!

Villains: Fools! Imbeciles! Imbeciles and fools!

Horned King: How much the lust and greed lushes through our veins!

Ratigan: And how much it gushes into all of your brains!

Sykes: As the cowards and mutts go down all of our drains!

(Drums make a crash, and then a band plays a Poor Unfortunate Souls melody)

Ursula: I admit that we were always a nasty

they weren't kidding when they called us well villains.

Percival Mcleach: Though they'd for dumb if they thought otherwise

(Music changes to a Gaston melody)

Gaston: No one scares like villains or sings like villains!

Villains: In a laughing fit no one laughs like villains!

Gaston: As specimens yes we're intimidating!

Villains: I want a character like a villain!

(Music changes to a Prince Ali Reprise melody)

Jafar: If only the hero didn't think so differently

Maybe then we may have been brought into reality

(Music changes to a Be Prepared melody)

Scar: I know that our powers of retention

Are as wet as a warthog's back side

Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared

Be prepared!

(Music goes back to the electric guitar and drums)

Ratcliffe: All the gold we'll get!

Frollo: All the glory we shall have!

Hades: All the things we gotta do!

Shan-Yu: For us to get our due

(Music is replaced to a dreary piano)

Clayton: Yes, we'll get our revenge very soon!

Yzma: And the company won't be too happy when we're through!

Narissa: It's too bad some things were never meant to be

Villains: Get ready for a taste of our might! The Rats we were made!

(Maleficent and The Queen carry an enormous black book to the center of the hall, and lay it onto the ground for dark magic to spill out everywhere)

Maleficent: Now let us read to you a story!

Come sit and gather around, the ending is good, believe me!

The Queen: Though it may not be so good for you (Villains laugh)

(With one turn of a page, haunting noises echo across the castle)

Now you will see how the rats were made! And it all began one day many years ago…

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	2. Chapter 2 A Mortal Walt Disney

Chapter 2 A Mortal Walt Disney

It was a time when the world was on the brink. Darkness swelled from the old world, hatred and despair ravaged the continent as the prideful, desperate people of a country led by a man with a flaming tongue and a purely villainous heart toke their financial and totalistic revenge on others. An uneasy mentality rested on America during this time, the people tortured with fear of their stability and comfort. However, no one was more miserable than the seemingly untouchable Walt Disney.

He sat in his desk, thinking thoughts that prickled and splintered him for many days. His would-be masterpiece, _Fantasia_, was a pathetic flop at the movie theaters. Apparently, people did not care at all for funny-sounding music. And why would they? The world was just too cruel and realistic for that foolishness. Why, the only good that came out of that for us was the magnificent birth of our unholy lord, Chernabog.

That, along with the failure of _Pinocchio_, put the entirety of the Walt Disney Company on the edge. Its workers were growing frustrated, and the animator, Art Babbitt, who created my most respected colleague, The Wicked Queen, joined the Screen Cartoonist Guild led by union organizer Herb Sorrell. Later, the union leader went to Walt's studio and told the big man that he represented the Disney workers. Walt and his attorney told the man to get out and stay out. When Disney discovered that Babbitt was recruiting workers to the guild, he was shocked, taking his actions as an act of betrayal.

This growing storm reached its boiling point when Disney was forced to lay off his beloved workers because of the Fantasia disaster. As a result, the workers flocked to the guild, and Walt simply had enough.

Soon, Walt made one of the most foolish blunders ever by firing Art Babbitt, and having him escorted off the studio property. This only enflamed the smoldering outrage of the friends of Babbitt, and now they wanted action. On May twenty-eighth, Guild members approved overwhelmingly for strike.

The next morning, Walt saw Buena Vista Street filled with bitter, picket-bearing strikers. Despite this, he still absurdly thought that it was only a mere skirmish, smiling at the very people opposing his decisions.

"Aw, they'll be back in a couple of days," he told an animator.

Among those in the picket-line was Vladimir Tytla, who ironically created our dear Chernabog. He reluctantly participated because his friends were doing so, and he thought it would not be against Walt to do so.

"I went on strike because my friends were on strike," he recalled. "I never wanted to do anything against Walt."

But Walt Disney truly felt betrayed. These people, whom were supposed to help and support him, were rallying and jeering against him. He had felt stabbed in the back, and as a result, he was left in total depression. At times, he was so pathetically miserable that an evil sprit could have licked the sorrow off of him like a lollipop. He was devastated, almost immobilized. He blamed Art Babbitt, union agitators, and communist agents for the monstrosity that annihilated the family of his studio.

Neither Walt Disney nor Art Babbitt acted like a villain. They had thought they were doing the right thing, but it had only led to a catastrophic loss of trust, mission, and community. The toons tried, oh so tried, to fight the misery, but it eventually stained their light and hardened their flighty hearts.

Later, when America was thrown into the bloody, frothing cauldron, the people were now unwilling to utter a laugh at a foolish cartoon. The reality, the realism, swallowed them into a hole of unsteady restlessness. The toons were entirely shut out, since the studio had become a place of war propaganda. Seriousness held the land.

One film was nearing completion however, and it was named _Bambi_. It had a childish name, and the characters seemed cute, but there was a scene the people could not possibly handle.

On a night in late February, 1942, an audience was about to watch a preview of _Bambi_. The crowd was strangely quiet during the film, making Walt wonder if they were watching intently or perhaps being flat-out bored. Then, a loud gunshot boomed from the screen, jolting a gasp out of the viewers. They were horrified when they discovered that Bambi's mother was killed, and the little fawn wandered around the trees to pitifully try to look for her.

"Mother, where are you?" he called.

Then, from the balcony, a teenaged girl cried, "Here I am, Bambi!"

Laughter spread throughout the theater. This was before my own birth, but I could envision how it had looked, and it makes me laugh myself. Obviously, the Disney animators were devastated. Returning to the studio gloomily and grimly, some of the animators were pushing Walt to not do the important scene.

"No," firmly said Walt, "We shouldn't' change the scene. It works beautifully just it is-and it stays."

And so the death of Bambi's mother was permanent, the scene breaking millions of hearts across the country at that time and to this day. For a war-ravaged nation, this was most certainly not something they wanted as "entertainment".

Among those with their heart broken was Walt's own daughter, Diane Disney. He was tucking her into bed the night she watched the movie, tears trickling down her face.

"Honey," Walt said, "Why are you crying?"

"Bambi's mother died!" Diane sobbed.

"Oh, honey," Walt said. "It's just a movie."

"But daddy," Diane said, "you could have let Bambi's mother live- and you didn't!"

He was stricken. For a man who loved his little mouse, and who possessed a very soft heart, the thought of putting a mother to death fell over a shadow of black onto him. He said good night to her, and then he quickly went to his room to be consumed. Sitting on his chair, he only thought about how he had let it happen, and a few of his own tears came running down his face.

This we may be certain. Walt Disney is no god. He was only a human being beloved by the fans and toons alike. However, we villains will never admire him. Inspiring millions, he hurt our chances of spreading misery, and he used us as mere tools. But he did ultimately make us to be the rats we have been made today.

You see, the people in the company must think there needs to be a balance. For every villain, there must be a hero to beat him or her. And for every hero, there must be a villain to oppose him or her. It is too bad that sometimes they make the villain better than the uninteresting hero. Look at Cruella De Vil for instance. She practically defined _101 Dalmatians_. Marc Davis, my goodness, I almost thank him for making me such a malicious rat I am made today! The more rats they made, the more the darkness grew.

Soon, we will be scampering around the studio, spreading a plague of misery and waving Mickey Mouses with scowling faces saying, "Disney unfair," except we shall hit harder. The Disney worlds will not be happy at all either, when our plague will sicken each of their characters...

_A/N: Except for the moment after the scene with Diane, and the inclusion of toons, all of this was absolutely real._


	3. Chapter 3 Cruel Luxury

Chapter 3 Cruel Luxury

Enough of my history lesson! Now you shall witness villainy at its very best! What is it you ask? Why, it's cruelty of course. And who would be better at it than the cruel devil herself, Cruella De Vil?

All was quiet one, icy night in London. Our revenge was quickly spreading the world like a plague, and its sheer cruelty will clamp down upon even those most innocent. A limousine swerved toward a warehouse in the darkest streets, and screeched to a halt at its front. All was dark in this area, and the only light visible was the light shooting from the limo's headlights, glaring at the world with an angry expression.

Once the car was turned off, Cruella left her metal monster with a snug, triumphant grin, striding her way to meet her two henchmen, Jasper and Horace. She was in a better mood now, for she finally achieved her ultimate challenge and was about to make her ultimate dream a reality.

"The puppies are finally mine!" she exclaimed, breaking off into laughter.

Indeed, the little brutes whom made her drive all over the countryside were awaiting their fate in the building. Jasper and Horace were eagerly anticipating all the fun to come; clubs, guns, and knifes were all together with their perfectly gleeful faces.

Cruella walked inside the building. Her usual white coat, made from a very unfortunate animal, was always her typical style. Now that her plans were accomplished, all that was left was a little entertainment, true entertainment.

"I've been waiting a long time for this!" she said, "Now it's time to see my happily ever after!"

The large warehouse was packed with puppies, squirming puppies. They all cowered as though she were a great furry demon. The green smoke from her pipe floated through the air like serpents, and she sat herself on a large chair at the front to get the best view of the coming carnage. This entire time she smiled devilishly at them, taking delight in their frightened expressions.

"You better be afraid, you little brutes!" she said, "You're going to see why no animal messes with me!"

The warehouse was lit brighter to be revealed as a fur factory, and the two henchmen were just giddy for violence. The puppies were whimpering and shuttering together, their eyes wide with fear. The smile of Cruella only grew wider and wider.

"My coats are all feeling drafty and wrinkled! Jasper! Horace! Go and flatten them out will you?!" she exclaimed.

The two thugs approached the mass of puppies, ready. They cornered them, and they had nowhere to run or hide. Jasper was the first to attack.

Oh, how lovely it sounded. The whacks of clubs, the crack of bones, and the screams of beaten puppies, Cruella relaxed upon her chair, taking every noise that pierced the factory like music to her ears. Once in relaxation, a snug grin was made as she absorbed every blow and cry. Within closed eyes, she envisioned a puppy beaten into a red ball of pulp. The pulp then morphed into an elegant, spotty coat. The daydream made her chuckle with pleasure.

She woke up to see the best sight she ever saw. Blood was pouring all over the floor, and dead puppies lied around the factory, beaten beyond comprehension. Jasper and Horace were still slaughtering more, and Cruella now felt a surge of excitement storm into her.

"Bash them on the head! Smash them! Kick them! Destroy them!" she cried.

Her own blood was boiling in cruel excitement, and her brain bulged and fried as a headache. Her eyes became blood-shot and the pipe smoke billowed around her, making her a frightful sight.

"Drown them!" she ordered Jasper, who dunked a screaming puppy into a bucket.

"Fry them!" she cried Horace, who set a little one on fire.

"Suffocate them!" she roared, Jasper strangling another one.

Swirls and whirls circled around her eyes. The rivers of red, the bashing of brains, and the gunshots fired at the puppies were driving her to insanity. She bolted from her chair and dashed outside.

Jasper and Horace were only continuing to become more savage as they swung knifes and club, and shot their guns. Never before did the usually idiotic henchmen look so menacing.

Then, a large limousine accelerated into the factory. It swerved around the corner and came down the warehouse. The last horrified group of Dalmatian puppies were escaping from Jasper and Horace when they saw her coming. The limo's angry headlights glared at them, but Cruella was grinning from ear-to-ear. Her hypnotic eyes were fixed entirely on their target.

"AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!" she screamed.

She floored it, and the puppies were now doomed. The most sickening, disgusting sound exploded from below tires. A loud thump echoed across the factory and car. Jasper and Horace, as violent and cruel as they were, saw the master of cruelty do her dirty work.

Cruella De Vil stopped and exited her car with the greatest laugh she could summon. Jasper and Horace looked down to see the run-over puppies, except that they looked more like something from the meat market.

"There, that flattened and ironed them nicely!" she said, and then resorted back to laughter.

Later, Jasper and Horace waited at the entrance to Cruella's house. She arrived at the doorstep to see her present.

"Here you are, Cruella!" said Jasper.

"Yes! My coat!" she cheered.

She snatched the present and shut the door immediately. Greedily tearing the paper off, she saw the most beautiful Dalmatian coat ever created.

"Yes, it's mine! The perfect Dalmatian coat!" she said.

Spots were covered all over it, with luxiorous stripes of black and white mixed in. She put it on and marveled at herself in the mirror.

"Oh, look at me, I look so perfectly wretched!" she laughed, breaking off into snickering.

She went to her room, and fell onto her bed. She relished in the coat's comfort, feeling the luxury of heat like the blood that once ran through its old wearer. She shrank into it, hearing the howls of dogs spered througout England with melancholy and sorrow over the deaths of the puppies.

"And I live happily ever after," she said, her laughter coming out as the room turned into darkness, with only her smoke and devious eyes visible.


	4. Chapter 4 Scarred Forever

Chapter 4 Scarred Forever

Poor Scar. He had always stood out from his pride, and not only because he had a dark brown coat, a black mane, and a scar over his right eye. Yes, he was born an outcast, brought up in his family as the ugly brother. He and Mufasa would always argue and fight each other. Mufasa was the big, wise brother, and little brother Scar was a bad egg who anyone could tell was a bother.

He could care less. His family may have snubbed him, but he merely turned away. Underestimated, he may have been born an outsider, but it was not his fault that he came to be. If at the right moment, he would have changed himself for the better if his family had not done otherwise to ensure his fate.

Long ago, even before Mufasa's time, his father had engaged with a lioness not even from the land where the sun's rays never reach, but she was kind enough to be his mate. The animal denizens always distrusted any animal from those lands, for it was a place where hyenas and other nasties inhabited. The lions over there were not so pretty either, but the king had somehow connected with "love". However, this love would be much appreciated by us, for it led to the birth of one of the evilest villains in our history.

First impressions would only take you so far. I will have you know that when Scar was born from the animator's pencil, that was the beginning of his ultimate hatred. It was as if he was born to be scarred forever. Everyone was opposed to him, and he was opposed to everyone else. Used and abused all his life, it was soon time for him to have his entertainment, and it would all happen on a day he should have been dead.

You see, when the plague came over The Pridelands after Simba's happily ever after, the shroud came over the ravaged body of Scar, torn to pieces by his own hyena henchmen after he duped them, and it came into his nose and mouth, breathing dark life into him. He shakingly stood on his feet, and he was wobbling as though he was a new-born wildebeast. He dropped on the ground, and then he staggered back up and hunched up Pride Rock.

One look at him, and you would have thought he was a zombie. His tongue hanged out of his mouth, and his green eyes flashed hauntingly. He was now covered in scars and cuts, a fleshy horror as he saw Simba stroking Nala lovingly. Growling with disgust, he remembered how he could never have a lioness of his own, and so now he felt that if he could not have one, Simba should not have one either.

Simba was the first to see his bad uncle in his undead state. My, how horrified and disturbed he was. Nala then saw him, and cried out. Scar chuckled darkly before running to the lion king and swatting him to the ground. The blow was so tremendous that Simba lied on the ground with a long cut on his head, a scar of his own. Scar could only laugh at his pain.

"Let that be a lesson for you," Scar growled in his deadly voice. Nala tried to fight him, but Scar slashed on her belly, giving her one too.

"This entire kingdom will be scarred forever!" he roared to the land. Thunderclouds instantly blotted out the sun as though dark magic controlled them, and a deadly lighting bolt struck Scar and gave him his old look back. The pride turned up to the see what was going on, and was speechless to see him.

"Be prepared!" he cried, and dashed at all of them. He attacked and thrashed with such brutality that the lions and lionesses were mortally wounded and left on the ground to die. Scar then ran to other places and began clawing at rocks and trees, making scars on them as well.

The animal kingdom was in hysteria. Elephants, rhinos, wildebeasts, zebras, and antelope darted across the savannah in panic. Scar lifted a claw up in the air and pointed it at the ground. A bolt struck and scarred the earth instantly. Now the old lion could control nature because of the plague.

"Scars will gash and rip the earth!" he chanted. Prolific lightening damaged as much land as possible, causing fire to erupt on the Pridelands.

"Floods will wash the savannahs!" he roared at the distance. The same valley where he killed Mufasa before was now flooding with unimaginable amounts of river water, crashing and splashing toward the paradise home of Timon and Pumbaa, washing Hakuna Matata away forever.

"Dust storms will pound the graveyard!" he said to the direction of the hyenas' home. Whipping, lashing dust struck the hyenas, ripping them apart with blindness and suffocation for killing him earlier.

"And now, the grand finale!" he exclaimed. "THE SCAR!"

The biggest, most frightening lightening bolt struck the top of Pride Rock, creating such a booming, thunderous noise that the entire monument simply collapsed. The pride had watched the whole spectacle painfully, and now, their suffering ended with their precious palace crushing on top of them. When the dust settled, only Scar was left standing, the biggest grin he ever made. The stars of the old kings were gone, blotted out by the fall of the kingdom.

"Long lived the king," he muttered. "And long live The Scar!"

He laughed into the darkness, the sun setting on a would-be golden age of The Pridelands.


	5. Chapter 5 Injustice Served

Chapter 5 Injustice Served

Look at what I had done, he thought. A whole city is burning because of my mission of eradicating the gypsies. Oh well, desperate times call for desperate measures. My years of hunting them down will soon be a close. And then, my work will create peace forever in Paris.

Judge Claude Frollo was thinking these thoughts as he stared at the burning Paris. Almost driven mad the night before, he had focused on exterminating the gypsies for years. Examining each building, he could not help but think that gypsy vermin were hiding under each roof. Scowling, he decided that enough was enough, now he would stop at nothing to destroy the outcasts.

That man certainly is an odd one in our ranks. He claims to be a good man, but he clearly surrounds himself with us devilish villains. Perhaps he is a hypocrite, which would explain it. Either way, he thought he was good when he was most certainly doing evil. Using religion as a weapon for evil puts him as one of our darkest members, and that is saying something.

Mounting onto his black horse, Frollo rounded up his guards and rode off to snatch victims. No house was safe from his iron grasp, since he was the most powerful man in Paris at that time. The harsh knocks would rattle the wooden doors, and the frightened peasants would open to see a glaring judge in their face. His appearence seemed calm, dignified, and stern. Such a face would never be taken lightly by anyone.

"Where are the gypsies?" he asked coldly.

"There is none, sir!" the peasant exclaimed.

"Nonsense, this household is tainted with unholy filth, and I could sense it!" he retorted.

The guards burst into the house without warning. The wife and children were merely pushed aside as they overturned pots and snapped open coverings. Frollo walked casually into the house as though he owned it. No one could oppose him, for power and chrom was all over him.

"Have you seen any?" he questioned.

"No sir, not a sight at all!" the man told him, desperation in his voice.

"Will you keep saying that?" he said, "Tell me the truth!"

The man was horrified, staring at his snug, cold glare made him felt as though he was melting into the floor.

"I am telling you sir, no gypsy has walked inside this house and came near my family!" he cried.

"…We'll see about that," he muttered. He immediately snatched the man's arm and saw that a symbol was hidden on it.

"Precisely! How dare you lie to me, gypsy rat! You shall surely rot in Hell for this!" he hissed. The guards seized the man and dragged him to the wagon.

"Take his offspring!" he ordered the others, and they grabbed the children as well.

"There are still more demons to smite, but this begins it!" he exclaimed.

So the judge continued his hunt across the city. Barging into peasant homes, arresting random people and gypsies, and killing some on the spot just for his plight of rage. The rounding up continued for many days, and then many of these innocent and gypsy people were put to a massive square where the judge sat on his seat darkly. A smirk on him, he was awaiting the severe punishment for the people, and he could not wait at all.

"So, after rounding you vermin up for many years, you will soon feel The Lord's wrath!" he told the gypsies.

The guards brought heavy whips and swords, and then the mass torture and massacre began. Cries of pain and shrieks pierced the sky as the whips tore onto backs and swords and arrows pierced them at all angles. Frollo thought it was enlightenment.

"Praise the lord for this," he said, "Now the city is safe and pure for good."

The carnage continued for many, agonizing minutes. A group of people were being beaten savagely, and they were pleading for everything to stop.

"We are not gypsies!" a man cried. "We do not deserve any of this!"

But all of that fell on Frollo's deaf ears. The music, and the entertainment, was enough to leave him full of enjoyment. The blood was a sign of the end of the gypsy race in Paris. What was called genocide by everyone else was merely pest control for him. He looked heavenward with a smile.

"So now that the gypsies are destroyed once and for all," he said. "Light has returned to Paris!"

And so now you see how evil religion can be when evil uses it for evil purposes.


	6. Chapter 6 The Scheme

Chapter 6 The Scheme

I could tell you how all the other villains got their happy ending, but now the time is almost coming. Now, our biggest plan is about to be initiated, and this would require the power of all of us.

One night in my castle, we were gathering in my main hall to begin our preparations of hitting the Walt Disney Company hard. Their executives were doing half of our work, but their parks were the only sanctuaries that they could use to keep the magic flowing.

Once seated at the long table, each villain was sitting in the order of their movie's release. At one sat me, and the Queen at the other end. This meeting was soon going to be become more important than usual.

"Listen well," I uttered, silence spreading at once.

"As you have witnessed, our plague is spreading over the Disney Worlds. Most of you are having your "happily ever after" and so now we must put the stake onto the company's heart! Yes, we must strike Disneyland and Disney World!" I said.

Dark magic summoned the layouts of both parks. The others nodded with glee, pleased that the happy places were about to not be so happy at all.

"It just so happens that both parks are in the most dangerous places imaginable," I continued. "Disneyland lies in California, and Disney World is in the middle of the Florida peninsula. Do you know what that means?"

Some of them realized my point and snickered delightfully, while the dumber ones scratched their heads. I cast a spell on each poster, the Disneyland one crumbling into pieces and the Disney World one ripped apart by a strong wind.

"Natural disasters, this will be unprecedented, my colleagues," I said.

The villains muttered to one another amusingly, with whispers of "Brilliant!" and "How villainous!" scattering around them after I revealed my plan. Ursula was a tad confused however.

"But Disney World is protected by a magical barrier, isn't it?" she asked.

I had to think about that one. The magical barrier was secretly made by the power of The Fairy Godmother, Merlin, and those three cursed fairies. I quickly suggested a tactic to weaken it. Clearly, they might not have thought about us coming and destroying it all anyway.

"Perhaps if we use the plague to suck the good magic out of it, we could still break through," I said.

The others cautiously agreed, since the plague did help them wreak their destruction. Now we simply had to think of a plan to execute it.

"So this is how it will be done," I resumed. "We will be stationed in different parts of an area. Those villains created during Walt Disney's time will join me and the Queen in Disneyland. The others will be sent to Walt Disney World. Ursula has stolen the trident, and she will use it to start a hurricane, since it is hurricane season. It must become a category five for it to obliterate Walt Disney World. Any questions so far?"

"Yeah, are we gonna kill some people?" Hades asked. "The more dead people, the better, ya know?"

"Although hurricanes killing people is perfectly natural, that is not exactly our priority," I told him. "It is Walt Disney World that must die."

The villains nodded, and so I was about to give my explanation for destroying Disneyland. Most of them knew how it was going to be done.

"And earthquake will shake Disneyland to the ground," I said. "And that I can do myself."

"So when it's all destroyed, what will we do next?" Captain Hook asked me. I smiled wickedly.

"I am glad you asked," I said. "We will go to Mickey Mouse and…"

I stopped at the end of my sentence, trying my best not to burst out laughing. The other villains examined me curiously.

"And what will we do to him?" Jafar asked.

"KILL HIM!" I bellowed wickedly. "WE WILL KILL MICKEY MOUSE!"

We all exploded into villainous laughter. Banging on the table, laughter, contorted faces, flying spit, and shrieks were everywhere. Never before did I laugh so incredibly hard. The mouse will end up being undone, along with the other heroes that needed wiped out.

"That is perfectly TERRIBLE!" Madame Mim shrieked.

"Now the mouse will soon taste death!" The Horned King mumbled.

"I always loved how sick your mind works!" Jafar told me.

"I hope we do not lose sight on thing, that it was all ended on a mouse!" I cackled.

All of the villains danced around or continued laughing, consumed with delight and villainy. Some of them ridiculed Mickey Mouse, such as Gaston whistling and Stormboil imitating his movements with Si and Am chasing him around. Sykes threw a Mickey Mouse doll at his Dobermans, and they tore it to pieces. Jafar waved his arms around as though he were the Sorcerer's Apprentice. And for whatever reason, Scar was singing _"Be Prepared"_, with some of it modified of course.

_So prepare for the coup of the century_

_Be prepared for the murkiest scam_

_(Ooh!)_

_Meticulous planning_

_(We'll have fun!)_

_Tenacity standing_

_(Lots of fun)_

_Decades of denial_

_(We repeat)_

_Is simply why we'll_

_(Endless fun)_

_Be kings, undisputed_

_Respected, saluted_

_And see the wonder we are_

_Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared_

_Be prepared!_

_Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared_

_Be prepared!_


	7. Chapter 7 Disney End

Chapter 7 Disney End

"Look at it!" I said to my colleagues, "Just waiting to be destroyed, hmm?"

What I was hinting at was the castle of Disneyland. It stood at its spot as happy as it ever did, and the visitors coming to this place thought that they would be making memories of a lifetime. Unfrotunely for them those memories were not going to be so good.

"Stand back!" I bellowed. The Queen and the others paced away from me. Power and darkness surged through my pale skin. My eyes glow an unearthly yellow, and a small rumbling shook at my feet. My robes twirled in the wind, and slow, cracking gaps broke around me.

In the park, the people looked around in concern, when they realized what was coming; terror sprang on their face and they ran frantically to shelter. The thunderous roaring boomed below, and the cracks were becoming more numerous.

The rides ran unstably, and the sky was becoming dark with all of my dark energy. The earthquake rattled the landscape like a toy, blurring vision and disorienting passers-by. The castle itself was fighting to stand, but the surrounding attractions lost their stability and came crashing down. Stubborn, the castle stood defiant as though it wanted to keep the Disney legacy alive.

Its eyes stared ahead boldly, for it was created during Walt Disney's time. The structure had witnessed his death before, but it still stood proudly. However, once it realized that a natural disaster created by a villain was about to get what she wanted, the castle crumbled in shame. It was all too easy.

"Marvelous!" I laughed. "For being a Disney landmark, it falls so weakly!"

This alone would depress millions of people, but we were far from done. Ursula was wading along the shore of Africa, the stolen trident in her clutches. A healthy cloud was high above her, and she raised it high so a golden light sparked the cloud.

"Winds of Africa, blow your hot breath from your sandy mouth, and heat the ocean with your rage!" she chanted.

The cloud immediately grew into an intimidating thundercloud, and that was all that was needed for it to wreak devastation on all in its path. While laughing at Disneyland's death, we watched Hurricane Ursula hover across the Atlantic menacingly, tormenting the islands in its way and barreling toward Florida. The peninsula evacuated before the hurricane would come, and the park stayed empty and lifeless for its last night.

Finally, the hurricane arrived at Walt Disney World. The winds whipped and thrashed wickedly, the pouring rain drenched the trees and battered the buildings, and lighting spilt over Cinderella's castle fiercely. It was long later when the storm spurred on its formidability.

A bolt of lightening sparked a fire on the very top of Cinderella's castle, starting a small fire. Trash and bags dashed down the street as the came down in sheets, reducing the running people's clothes to rags. Thunder rumbled as bumbling servants scurried from the water currents in a hurry. Over in EPCOT, the ice cream of frightened children dripped like snot and the others slipped and cried as though they were about to die. The Hollywood Studios suffered hail asa bale of people flocked to a shelter as though it were a steeple. The rides were slain by rain, and the hopes of all visitors went down the drain.

Meanwhile, the fire chackled and hackled down the castle, burning the blue as the turning of paint went into dew. Fire ate with all of its hate as the situation became dire, and the wonder of a master soon came to be a diaster. Charred remains, sheering strains, and lightenting all wild sent the stage for a drain, and we were all happy just the same.

When Cinderella's Castle became literal, we approached the statues of Mickey and Walt with a fiddle. Our celebrations were almost coming, but the terror of the people was almost drumming. We were smiling at the sheer sight of it all, as the statues were lying before us. Some of us had hammers, and others magic, for what was about to happen next would be quite tragic.

There they were, Mickey and Walt, holding hands for themt to be reduced to salt. First came the rope, tied around both of them so we could pull them to the ground with very much sound. The hammers swung down on their knees, and the height of their deeds fell down to our own knees. From there we dragged them down the street in a beat, laughs and cheers drowning out the onlookers' tears.

By the next day, all of Disney was ruined and our goals were met. All of our dreams and desires have now been kept, with the damage of the parks all at a loss. The people sat and cried, and some thought that Disney had died.

Whatever they cried, we did not care, for now we thought that we were fair. All of our apples were dumped in the company's bag, and it was so much weight that it sagged. But now our sights were on him, and our desire grew into a fire.

"Mickey, you are ours now!" I laughed, transporting myself and others to his home, for his death soon to be known.


	8. Chapter 8 Maleficent Vs Mickey

Chapter 8 Maleficent Vs. Mickey

The entire neighborhood was dark and desolate. Not a soul was wandering its grey streets and surely no people were out and about this dark, depressing day. No, the neighborhood was perfectly blank, and the toons that once lived in happier times were now sucked of their warmth. Hiding from the grey world beyond their walls, no one saw us wandering down the street in a delightful cheer. I was feeling wonderful, quite the opposite of the souls hiding in their homes with grief. The mouse himself was hiding in his own house, the one we were silently approaching.

"It will be almost sad how easy this will be," said The Queen, a smirk on her red lips.

Indeed, I had to agree, for the mouse was very sentimental, but there was hardly any doubt that our plans brought him to the brink. I could not wait to see him, so miserable, so lonely, and so pathetic. All that we knew was that he was about to go visit his old master's grave, and that was when he would be brought down.

Finally, his house was upon sight, and oh how tremendously melancholy it had looked. Its normally cheerful atmosphere was blown by the cold wind that dreary day, and we proceeded to arrive on his doorstep almost as though we were simply paying a visit. With me at the front, I rang the bell to alert the sad, little mouse inside. The bell rung out inside its hollow interior, but no movement was heard or felt. Again I rang, but silence persisted. I gave my colleagues one last grin of villainy before I walked into his living room.

No one was found inside. The rooms were all deathly quiet and furlorn. However, I could scarecly hear the low, flowing crys of Mickey Mouse, most likely coming from his bedroom. I crept through the hallways, each of my movements taking in the isolated residence and the sobs of Mickey amusing me. The sobs echoed down the hallway, and the mouse was finally on my sights. Just as I had suspected, the mouse was drecnched with his tears of sorrow, and he was so painstakingly greif-stricken that a Disney fan would feel pity. I had none whatsoever.

"Hello Mickey Mouse," I sad as sweetly, but nastily as I could.

By hearing the sound of my voice, Mickey Mouse jolted up right and stared at me with the most bewidered eyes I ever saw on him. I laughed in response. He remained that way in all of his unbelieveabilty, fixed on me entirely.

"You," he muttered, "Maleficent."

Now a coat of fear was draped over him, and I strode my way toward him with lowered eyes and a smile.

"Mourning for Walt I see?" I asked.

"He meant...so much to me," he said quietly before tearing up again.

"Mickey, you may have been his son but..." At once he jumped up and glared in hostility.

"Darn right he was my father! But you ruined everything!" he said angrily.

I chuckled, and simply waved him as though to ask him for more. Finding out that I was not moved, he sank back into his bed gloomily.

"I know what I say will not go past your soft skull," I said, "But Walt toyed with all of us. He was devoted to his work, but he did not mean that we were treated fairly. We villains were snubbed every year by his happy work, and so we never look at someone like him with any pinch of inspiration. Yes, he loved you like a son, but ask me this Mickey. Being the creator and little god that he was, why did he not spare Bambi's mother? Why do you think that we bad toons were manipulated? Simple, it is called normal. We are part of a culture that revolves around fanasty, heroes, and princesses. Here is a new one for you, Mickey Mouse. Everyone has a dark side. You may have been a hero, but a demon sleeps inside you. Some day, Mickey Mouse, that demon awakens. You should be thankful not such a thing happens to the likes of you."

My lecuture washed over him, his sorry state contiued and his eyes fixed on the floor. Then he quickly cleared his throat.

"But Walt always loved me," he said. "He was a perfect man."

"Wrong, Mickey Mouse," I said sternly, "No one is perfect in this world. Do you not realize that?"

Mickey buried himself in the blankets, keeping the tears flowing. I only looked on unimpressively, perhaps impatiently.

"...I guess," he muttered, "I want to see him."

"You will Mickey Mouse," I said, "You will meet him very soon."

I pointed my staff at him, and the mouse immedatly jumped a few feet in the air and ran for it. My staff fired bolts of lightenting throughout the house, setting the scene on quick electricity. The fear was now consuming Mickey Mouse.

Once outside, he saw the villains awaiting him, and he tore away to his car and sped off. I came out and cast a spell on him before he could leave. The spell brought him under my control, and so the two of us were transported to the final resting place of Walt Disney.

His grave lied there, and Mickey deserted his car to bawl on top of it. With a frown, I yanked him off and threw him to the ground. I pulled out a shining knife this time and held it at his throat.

"Good bye, Mickey Mouse," I hissed.

He let out a shriek and kicked me away. Scowling, I sliced the air with my blade as Mickey stood defiantly in front of Walt's grave with furious eyes.

"What do you want with me?!" he cried. "Haven't you ruined Disney enough?!"

I cackled with delight, keeping the knife close to me and holding it lovingly. The sky was grey and black, and rain began to pelt the ground.

"You are the heart of it all!" I laughed. "Once I am done with you, we shall be free!"

I lunged him to him like a serpent, and the nimble mouse jumped away quickly. Baring my teeth and scruiniting him with my eyes, I stabbed the air as fast and dedly as I could, but the big-eared fool contiued dodging me. The darkness of the cemetery was heavy, but I could see Mickey as clear as daylight. Mickey Mouse then went back to Walt's grave to knelt before it as though it were an altar.

"Help me Walt!" he sobbed, "Help me beat Maleficent!"

I burst out laughing, and spat at him. He whirled around and tackled me, trying to take furious, cartoonish punchs at me. I simply desolved below him and materilazed a few feet away. I walked to Walt's grave myself, and Mickey only stood there in vile bitterness.

"Walter," I told the grave. "I know you hate us, and that you made us into rats, but that has been a foolish blunder on your part. Since you helped created the mistress of all evil, you probably thought the good hero would always defeat me did you? Well Walt, I must say that I thank you. Thank you Walt Disney. You were a great force for drems, but you certainly knew how to make some very powerful villains. And for that, we thank you. Now, let me give you a prize. The prize is that your life and joy will be joining you very shortly."

I concluded with a perfect wad of spit right on top of the grave, and Mickey burst toward me again. But he was instantly thrown back when a burst of green flames enveloped me. I turned to Mickey and smiled my devilish smile. Now it was time for me to finish him.

"Now shall you deal with me O Mickey, and all the powers of Hell!" I proclaimed. With powers surging through me, I laughed my way up into sky and turned into my signature dragon form. Mickey was absolutely shocked to see this of course.

"Oh no you don't!" he cried. With a wave of his own magic, he put on his sorcerer's aprentice hat. Now it was time to see what Disney magic really was.

I fired a blazing stream of fire in his direction, and he shot a strong line of white magic. The collison sent shockwaves throught the air and we instantly sent into a tug of power. Both of us put all of our magical might into it, and the strength and power was so great that it burst out entirely, throwing us off. Mickey was pushed back, I lashed his tail at him. He jumped onto it and hung on as I swung him around me.

Firing flames in all directions, Mickey jumped onto my back and shot white light at my head. I threw him off and sent him tumbling back into the ground. I then tried to crash into him with my whole underbelly, but Mickey somehow kept a strong light that held me away. Roaring, I clawed and slashed at the barrier, and Mickey stood there as though he was protected. But at that time, it simply vanished away. He looked at me nerviously.

"Still new to magic I guess," he said. I chuckled and caught him in my scaly hand. He was now completely at my mercy.

I was about to eat him until a bliding light radiated from him. With a cry, I let go and fell to the ground, caught off by the attack. The light was affecting me as well, and it quickly turned back to my original form. Mickey was very surprised, and to my disgust, he smiled. He gave out a cheer, bowed at Walt's grave, and was gone in a flash, and so my ultimate plan had been dashed.

"Impossible!" I muttered. "How can this be?"

I turned to Walt's grave and glared harshly. It still lied there as quiet as ever, so the light had to have come from elsewhere.

"Curse you Walt Disney!" I cried, pointing at the grave and leering nastily.

I cried out in outrage, my green flames taking me back to my castle. The final blow to end Disney was prevented, and it was done so by the faith of the Disney fans. When I later knew of this, I was very distressed. The plague had not taken down the people's hopes in Disney, but rahter strentghted it. The eariler diasters should have ruined them, but instead it brought them together as one. With all of this power, their spirtual strenght gave Mickey the chance to stop me.

I could not believe it. Somehow, impossibly, the plauge had been cured.


	9. Chapter 9 A Horde of Villains Plus More

Chaper 9 A Horde of Villains Plus More

We thought our plans were dashed at that moment. The mouse had gotten away from my grasp, and it seemed as though the plague was dying. But jus as we thought we were done, an event happend that saved us from losing to ruin. It was made by a villain that always had disliked the mouse.

Although Mickey was saved by faith, it appeared that Donald and Goofy were not so fortunate. Pete had gotten a hold on them. Usually he was a bumbling fool, but my hunt for Mickey made him into a different sort of rival this time around. Now he was holding them hostage from Mickey.

The plague itself was still weakened, but we would see to it that it surged back to our use once more. Fortunately, the pessimism of the people was as strong as the hope, so now we could use it to restart our revenge. Perhaps the foolish mouse was not so important to us after all.

Scheduling a new meeting, we met at The Queen's palace to discuss a new tactic for our return to revenge. All of them were absolutely frustrated as I was, but now the time for action was near. If we were dawdled, the light would return, and so everything would be crushed for our plot.

"We may not have destroyed Mickey Mouse," I addressed to the table, "But we shall surely get our upper hand, let there be no doubt!"

"I still want to have my happy ending!" The Queen of Hearts barked, "That little Alice eluded my yesterday!"

"And the gorillas are still out and about!" Clayton brought up.

"Yes, I understand that some of you are having your plan deferred," I said, "That is why I have made this proposal."

A group of villains filed out of the large doors behind me. A muscular man led them to several of the chairs between Yzma and me. Among them were a space pirate, a very large alien captain, and a cattle rustler. Judging from their expressions, they were irked of coming to this meeting.

"The new villains," Yzma grumbled, "And to think I'm one of them!"

"Now, now Yzma, we must have all of our colleagues in order for us to succeed," I told her.

"Darn right, Maleficent!" blurted Alameda Slim, "We have more right to be angry than y'all!"

Yzma only shook her head and grumbled. The others turned to me with doubtful looks. I had expected them to feel this way, because of how unsuccessful these villains were. However, I was still hiding my greatest secret. The new villains had been left out for far too long to be used.

"Yes, Alameda Slim," I told him, "The movies released this decade were received poorly, and you were hardly honored in our meetings much at all."

"Our movies always got teeny-weenie money at the box office and critics made a hootin' and hollerin' of how bad they were!" Slim complained.

"Agreed," The Horned King growled.

"Aw shucks, you must've been mad," Alameda Slim told him, "At least yer scary, that's what matters. And to think you were in a best-sellin' book too!"

I summoned a new chart to the room, and this one showed the names of all of the Disney lands.

"Now, let us go into our details shall we?" I said, "The weakening of the plague has recovered the lands, and so we must go and destroy as much as possible so that nothing will go back to normal. I will grant all of you absolute freedom to devastate and spoil all that you please. We must make the Disney World suffer so that we may weaken whatever petty faith they may still have."

Pleased with a much bigger chance of revenge, all of them thought and grinned at the mayhem they may cause.

"What is with the empty chair Maleficent?" Jafar asked me.

"I am glad you asked," I said with a smile, "I do believe now might be the time to explain why."

There was indeed an empty chair at the end of the table, placed after Narissa and at the very end of the timeline of the movie release dates.

"I have an important announcement," I called to everyone, "I am pleased to say that we have a new addition to our roster."

A sense of surprise trickled down the table, and many of them became excited and pleased to hear who it was that will join us.

"A new villain?" asked Captain Hook.

"Precisely," I replied. The Queen thought about who it could be, and she seemed puzzled.

"Surely it would be premature to bring him out this early Maleficent?" she asked me.

"Nonsense, this would be a perfect opportunity for him to prove his worth to us," I told her.

Suddenly, we could hear footsteps approaching the door behind us. All of us ceased our noises immediately, and the door knocked firmly.

"You may enter," I said.

Many of us waited anxiously for the door to open. Captain Hook looked almost a tad nervous. Some grinned and some tried to hold their excitement. Some, such as me, were sitting idly for the new villain to arrive. The mystery of who was behind the door raced their heads rapidly, and the urge to sit at the edge of their seats was incredible. Would he be intimidating, but humorous such as Hook or Hades? Would he be merciless and mad such as Cruella De Vil or The Queen of Hearts? Would he be slick and sly such as Jafar and Scar? Or perhaps would he be frightening such as me or The Queen? It was quite obvious that we were anticipating very much for the revealing.

The door was creeping, creeping open slowly and surely to the inside of our room. The suspense was at a boiling point, our anticipation spiked. And then lo and behold, a tall, spindly African-American in a suit and skull-studded top hat burst through and laughed manically. We all gave him our laughs.

"Meet Dr. Facilier," I told everyone.

"Oh yes, our first black villain," muttered Jafar.

"Huh, I might like this guy," complimented Hades.

He sat at his new chair, and so we went on with our business.

"Now, we will have even more assistance," I told the group.

Inside the door came computer-animated villains, and once again my colleagues were pleasantly surprised.

"The Pixar villains will join us as well?" asked Ursula.

"Yes, and so now we will have a full set of villains to strike the Disney worlds." I replied.

The Pixar Villains stared around the castle, and they were also amused of their long-awaited chances of defeating their foolish heroes. With their aid, we would be able to hurt not much the Disney world, but the Pixar one as well. It had all felt like a wonderfully wretched feeling.

"Heh, I can't wait to rip up some stupid toys!" remarked Sid Phillips.

"For years I've been running after that bird, and now I will!" said Charles Muntz.

"Very well, we will depart then," said The Queen.

As the villains left to cause their chaos in the homeland, I came over to Dr. Facilier with my signature grin.

"Congratulations doctor, you have the marvelous opportunity of ruining the story and winning it yourself before the movie even comes out!" I told him.

"Yeah, I know!" he replied with a mischievous chuckle and grin. He had such a splendidly wicked smile.

He left to join the others, and now I saw Alameda Slim looking at me like a buffoon.

"Now wait just a minute there! You want to ruin his movie too?" he asked me.

"No fool, I want him to win his story," I told him.

I left the castle, seeing the new villain chatting with Jafar and Hades. Clearly I could see a new partnership forming between them, as the plague was about to return. I would be there for chronicling all of the madness that they will cause, one by one. And I would enjoy every minute of it.


End file.
